


A Sufficient Distraction

by mythomagicallydelicious



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Dipper Pines - Freeform, Episode Related, Episode: s02e16 Roadside Attraction, Gen, Grunkle Stan | Stanley "Stanford" Pines - Freeform, Mabel Pines - Freeform, Scary-oke, Zombies, the rift - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-15 07:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13025829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythomagicallydelicious/pseuds/mythomagicallydelicious
Summary: A distracted mind often comes up with the genius a focused mind could not, they say.Ford takes a break from thinking about the Rift, and ends up seeing more than he bargained for.





	A Sufficient Distraction

Ford had hit a dead end. He had hit multiple dead ends, actually. He'd spent nearly every moment he had down in the basement, trying to determine what to do about the Rift, but it had led to no solutions. He knew he had the Shac- the house to himself this weekend. Stan and the kids were out on a some road trip. Meaning he could stretch his legs a bit more without Stan glaring at him for spending time with the kids, no matter what Stan had said after the infinity dice incident.

Going upstairs for a break would be good for him, he decided. He had heard a saying over the years that had proved to be somewhat fruitful to him- "A distracted mind often comes up with the genius a focused mind could not." And while he was sometimes doubtful of such a maxim (having spent many,  _many_ all-nighters in his life to work through problems giving him trouble instead of taking a break) he did take that advice to heart on occasion, and found that it was sound.

Unsure of what to do in the house that felt so unfamiliar, and not exactly up to too much snooping around, he takes a look around the gift shop. Behind the register he finds old surveillance tapes from the rickety old camera perched high up on the wall. Ford supposed it wouldn't hurt to watch something that was sure to be so trivial. 

So he hooks up the vcr and watches some of the recent footage, just for something to do. He expects the dull tourists and ridiculous gags from his brother. He does not expect the shenanigans it picks up from the Corduroy girl behind the counter (and he does not expect the flashbacks to the few kind memories he has of Dan, and the absolute 180 of work ethics displayed here).

Nor does he expect the night videos to be interesting. But one evening in late July caught his eye. Suddenly he saw the kids run in through the gift shop door and slam it shut, haphazardly throwing displays and souvenirs against it. Ford turned the audio up as his concern mounted.

That’s when the zombies broke through. Ford stood and shouted when he realized they were what was trying to break through the door (and using power tools? Wait, was that Stan’s handyman?) The kids were huddling into each other, surrounded, and Ford felt his heart constrict as he watched Dipper be picked up by one of the horde, his last words a familiar screaming echo of, “Mabel, I’m so sorry Mabel–”

And then the mouth about to take a bite out of Dipper was knocked away. A baseball bat was being swung around, dismantling the nearest undead. _It was Stan!_

He watched as Stan swung left and right, clearing a route for Dipper and Mabel to run upstairs. He watched as his brother tried to back up behind them, cringing as the baseball bat broke and heart racing as he wondered how his brother could possibly come through that situation. His heart thudded impossibly faster as he watched Stan slip something over his fingers and–no, no way! 

“Stanley?” Ford was glad he was alone, because his voice cracked twelve ways to Sunday with his next words. “Stanley, you can’t take on the undead with a pair of knuckledusters!” Ford cringed at his own tone for a moment, but his eyes never left the screen. Stan was knocking them down left and right, dismantling and dismembering the ragged frames of the zombie mob.

He watched in disbelief as the camera picked up on his brother crushing zombie skulls beneath his feet, edging his way out of the room. Ford was left in the agony of waiting, turning up the video’s volume to maximum, to try and get any idea of what was happening off screen. He heard Stanley issuing threats and a lot of crashing. He heard the zombies moan and the children screaming. 

Ford paced in front of the screen, distraught. Even knowing that this was weeks ago didn’t help. Seeing what his family had gone through, when he hadn’t even known they existed, and could do nothing to help was its own form of torture. Not too long after the screams he heard a different sound. It was shaky and unsure, and almost impossible to hear at first. But the sound got stronger and louder and…oh, _oh! They were singing!_  

Ford heard the sound of exploding heads and strangely on-pitch song. It wasn’t a tune he recognized, but even through the poor audio, Ford could recognize Stanley’s gruff voice, and the kid’s higher pitched voices matching in harmony. 

Relief flooded through him as he saw a few of the zombies still within the gift shop’s camera range exploded as the perfect three-part-harmony did its work. He heard the singing outside cut off and he knew they had taken care of all the zombies. 

Ford’s legs felt like jelly and he sat down on the edge of Stan’s chair. He couldn’t believe what they had gone through this summer! Of course, he had briefly skimmed over the entries Dipper had made in his journal, but the section that mentioned zombies was so small it seemed like it hadn’t been quite the issue Ford had run into with Fiddleford back in the day.

Ford took a few calming breaths and clicked off the television. He’d had enough second-hand adventures for one day. But though he turned off the video on the screen, he couldn’t stop the images in his mind from playing over and over again. Stanley, facing the zombies with only his fists. The children, in danger because of his journals. Ford felt a grudging respect for Stanley grow within him, even as he tried to push it down. 

Shaking his head to clear it of the troubling thoughts, he went back down to the basement. Perhaps now he could think up a solution to the Rift situation. His mind was sufficiently distracted, he thought. Now all he had to do was hope the genius would follow through.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to write it in any better, but this idea started around the idea of Ford voice-cracking his way across realizing Stan was facing the zombies with nothing but his brass knuckles. I laughed for so long about imagining that scene, and the rest bloomed out from that moment. "His voice cracked ten ways to Sunday" was a line that I knew I had to include in some form, because it just made me laugh so much to imagine Ford freaking out majorly over this scenario.
> 
> Also, inspired by this post, that never fails to make me laugh: https://mythomagically-delicious.tumblr.com/post/155684523790/thesnadger-doubtingsalmon-did-he-even-try
> 
>  
> 
> Also, this joke just came to be before I posted. At the beginning, Ford had hit multiple dead ends. When he watched Stan, his brother was also hitting many "dead ends". Hahaha :D


End file.
